The Sound of Silence
“Quiet as a think tank for the soul” — Gordon Hempton
Can we begin with a pause?
What did you hear? Anything? If not, let’s try this again.
Now?
Were you aware of these sounds before the pause?
We tune out to tune in. We tune out noise to survive in our urban landscapes, whether we are conscious of it or not. But we can never fully tune out. Our bodies are more intelligent than that.
I think about noise a lot. I think about noise because noise creeps into every part of our lives, and is virtually inescapable in cities. With nowhere to find quiet and stillness, and to put our senses at ease, our minds may never fully rest. And I feel this unrest, with my whole being.
When I talk about noise I am talking about intrusive, unwanted sound that is very difficult to get used to. Outside of the city, such as in deep nature, sounds abound, but this is not noise. Our bodies respond to noise whether we are aware of it or not, often triggering a stress response. This response manifests in different ways: elevating our heart rates, blood pressure, and respiration. Further, feelings of anxiety, irritability, and just general annoyance may arise as well, diverting our attention from whatever we were doing — all because of a subway blasting into the station, or an ambulance screaming by. Even when sleeping, studies have shown that our sympathetic nervous systems respond to noise in the same way as when we are awake — such as to the noises of planes, trains, and traffic. While mind and body rest, the ears and nervous system don’t get off so easy.
Given this, it becomes clear that even if you do not actively notice noise, this does not mean that your brain isn’t responding to it in some way. Environmental noise is intrusive whether we pay attention to it or not, because even actively trying to ignore noise takes just as much energy.
As well, we literally experience sound with our whole being. Sound waves vibrate the bones of the ear and transmits the vibrations both physically and electrically throughout our body. The electrical signals that noise prompts to the brain activates the release of cortisol, a stress hormone, which is disconcerting when it becomes a chronic problem. As I write this, I fail to tune out the planes that fly over my apartment — once a minute — to no avail. And I can feel the shuddering reverberations throughout my body.
Apart from the individual effects of noise on human beings, noisy environments cut us off from eachother. Studies have shown that anti-social behavior is more frequent in noisy environments, and people may be less likely to help one another because we are cut off from a level of intimacy that is difficult to attain — just think of the last time you took the subway. Humans are fundamentally listening creatures, and our nervous systems were not designed to process the kind of noise that we do. While we may have forgotten it, it is in quiet places that we feel secure.
While noise may increase stress and tension in the body, silence releases it. When the brain is resting, and not distracted by noise, it can more easily integrate information and process the internal and external world. This state is called the default mode, and is the one in which the brain has the spaciousness and freedom to wander, be imaginative, daydream, and helps us connect to (and hear) our thoughts and feelings. It is vital to have the space and time to engage this network, as that is where reflection and meaning making can occur about ourselves, eachother, and our lives. At a time when the sound of the external world is muting our internal one, silence is indeed an endangered resource, and one that is essential to thinking straight.
Noise pollution is something that is rarely discussed, but pervasive, and the world is only getting louder. For people like me who are highly sensitive to all sensory experiences, such as noise, it is simply much harder for us to relax in an urban environment.
“All profound things and emotions of things are preceded and attended by silence” — Herman Melville
So where do we go?
Where are the remaining quiet places? Or, how can we find peace within the cacophony?
Birdsong, flowing water, and wind blowing through the tree canopy are some of the most calming sounds to the human psyche and body. These sounds can be found in the city if you slow down, find the quiet corners, and truly pay attention. Further, studies have shown that listening to these soundscapes — in the background of your home, or while walking down a noisy street or subway (perhaps with noise canceling headphones) — is equally as beneficial in calming the nervous system, and eliciting good feelings. Be sure to remove the headphones when out of the noise, however. The natural world needs us to hear it, and we need to hear it. This need is demonstrated in the range of human hearing, which at the highest end is far above that which the human voice reaches. What could explain this? Birdsong. We are wired to hear it, appreciate it, and be guided by it, and while they don’t sing for our enjoyment, we hear it as music. Plentiful and diverse birdsong reflects a habitat rich in resources, and resources that were meant to be shared by all. This evolutionary reflex — to follow life and sustenance — is still wired deeply within us. But it leaves me wondering, how many birdsongs go unheard?
Human beings are wired to be in nature. As we spent 99.99% of our evolution in nature, it is encoded in our DNA, and so it becomes clear that it is in nature that we may feel most calm, and be able to truly listen deeply. Nature makes us better listeners. We live in a world that pays attention to people, ideas, and noise, but rarely to that which surrounds us, and what it means to be a living creature, alive in a natural place. So when we are talking about silence, we are really talking about what it means to be in a place, completely. Can we just be here? Can we meet ourselves in silence, without filling the void — with technology, or more noise?
Can we try?
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